


spiteful in a million ways

by merriell



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, College AU, F/F, F/M, Inspired by Carmilla Webseries, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-04-29 10:29:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14470692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merriell/pseuds/merriell
Summary: From the first day of Whizzer Brown’s life in Applebaum University, he had figured out that there was something wrong about this university—tuition that’s suspiciously too low, the gothic aesthetic that filled every corner, and suspicious looking choir singing creepy Latin hymns that travel through the walls—though none will prepare him for the fact that his roommate, Marvin Blumenfeld, was a vampire, and even worse, a handsome vampire who he was pretty sure was hitting on him.Inspired by Carmilla Webseries.





	1. The Roommate

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I'm not American so I have no idea how university work inside and I know that I should probably finish my other fic but this is just so *tempting* that I can't refuse but anyway!!! enjoy!!! as always comment and kudos will be greatly appreciated <33

All his life, Whizzer Brown always knew that he wanted to be a photographer.

His parents had never approved of it; they were a pair of anxious lovebirds, always with a plan up their sleeves, preparing and preparing for the future that it had never occurred for Whizzer to consider photography as his major until he found the brochure in his guidance counselor office.

When he suggested the idea to them, they didn’t approve. It was the whole mediocre scenario about money, about the future that might not be so bright, but Whizzer had insisted, and the low tuition of Applebaum had been _so_ enticing, and _it’s not like I have anywhere to go, Dad, just let me go_.

At the end, he arrived at Applebaum university with a happy smile on his lips, waving goodbye as his father as he drove away.

 

*

 

The dorm was unisex, he discovered late—this wasn’t written on the brochures—from his floor don, a fidgety, nervous man that introduced himself as “Mendel, it’s very nice to meet you.”

Mendel escorted him to the room he was supposed to be in, talking about Applebaum University as they walk. Whizzer half-listened as the man rambled about the choir club being negatively soul-sucking, his arm tired from dragging his suitcase. He responded as much as he could, feigned interest as Mendel kept rambling, though he made a mental note to really check out how boring the choir club was.

“Anyway, this is your room,” Mendel said as they stopped at the end of the hallway. He looked down at the board he was holding before glancing to the room number. He gave Whizzer a key that seemed a little bit dented. “You’re rooming with a Sophomore, Marvin Blumenfeld. Oh, I know him, seen him hanging out with Trina a couple of times.” He flipped the page again before adding, “I don’t think he has arrived yet, so the room’s all yours for now.”

“I sure do hope he’s nice,” Whizzer muttered as he pushed open the door. He kicked his suitcase inside, sent it rolling through the floor until it bumped with one of the beds.

Mendel let out a nervous laugh that Whizzer couldn’t decipher. He fixed the glasses he was wearing and gave Whizzer a quick pat on the back. “Have a good year. You know where to find me.”

Whizzer briefly watched as Mendel left, his feet dragging behind him as he walked. Whizzer sighed and fixed the strap of the backpack that was still on his back before pushing the door open again. Mendel was right; Blumenfeld was nowhere to be found, giving Whizzer a brief privacy, at least until he decided to show up.

He decided to throw himself on the bed, staring at the ceiling for a moment, unable to believe and truly comprehend that he was finally free from his overbearing parents. As if on cue, he could feel his phone buzzing, his mother’s already bothering him on how he should tidy up his luggage instead of lounging around.

Whizzer gave the text a little smile. Sure, his parents hovered around him too much, but sometimes, it did feel very nice.

He spent the remaining of the day putting his luggage in place, making sure his clothes are well-folded so that he doesn’t have to suffer through wrinkled clothing on his first day in class. He even bothered to light a scented candle he bought on a sale on the side of his bed, trying to make the room as cozy as he could.

Once he was satisfied by the state of his room, Whizzer sat back on his newly made bed and was trying to reply the text by his mother when the door swung open with a loud crack.

Whizzer turned to find a man with a curly hair, muscular arms, and prominent eye bags stared back at him, carrying a large gym bag on his side. Whizzer can feel his eyebrow raising as the man stepped inside and throw his gym bag on the floor without a care before settling down at the other bed, completely ignoring Whizzer’s presence.

“Hey, are you Marvin? I’m Whizzer, I major in photography,” Whizzer decided to play nice. After all, he was stuck with this person unless otherwise protested. “It’s very nice to meet you. I hope we can—“

“Marvin. I need to rest. Can you leave me alone for a second?”

He could feel his determination to be nice deflate like a balloon. There was a sharp tone in Marvin’s voice, like Whizzer was annoying him, which _annoyed_ Whizzer since all he wanted to do—all he was trying to do—was play nice to someone he was forced to share oxygen with.

His mouth fell open to say something before he decided to go against it.

 

*

 

The next morning, Whizzer attended an assembly for freshman, eyes full of boredom as he tried to pay attention to what the principal was saying. He regretted coming in time and wasting his good shirt for this. He was sitting on the back row, his laptop opened in front of him as he watched a vine compilation video in mute, realizing that he already knew about ¾ of the videos inside of it.

“This is very boring, huh.”

It took him a few seconds to realize the blonde beside him was talking to him. She was dressed in what looked like thrifted clothes, like she just walked out of a 90s sitcom, which somehow fit her without it being forced. Whizzer let out a soft chuckle before answering: “Yes, it is very boring.”

“Oh, I love this one,” she pointed at a video in which the one taking the video was sitting on the backseat, pointing the recording to the one with a Kermit hand puppet on the front seat.

Whizzer laughed at the sight, already hearing the audio in his mind. “I bet you love the ‘croissants’ one too.”

“Oh, God, that one is my favorite.”

They exchanged a smile before the blonde held out a hand to him. “I’m Whizzer,” Whizzer greeted, glad that he was already bonding with someone—someone who understood his future vine references. “Whizzer Brown. Photography.”

“Cordelia Abrams. Graphic Design.”

They ended up talking about the significance of vines in today’s culture, easily drowning in their hushed laughter until they finally realize the lecture was over. The principal was already leaving, followed by students all around them; they were trying to leave when a rowdy group of seniors started throwing dried, salted fish in the air.

Whizzer scrunched his nose in disgust as the students started to sing their fraternity hymns in between their laughter. He picks up the icky, dried fish that fell onto his lap when he realized he found someone he knew in the crowd: the one and only Marvin Blumenfeld, a bored look in his face as he watched people around him continue to scatter dried fish everywhere.

“Want to go?” he asked Cordelia after one dried fish almost hit his face.

“Ugh,” she said as she threw away a dried fish that fell inside her tote, “This doesn’t even look remotely yummy.”

 

*

 

Whizzer barely managed to remove the salty scent of sea from his hair—apparently one had fell on his head—when he walked out to find Marvin already settled on the bed, wearing a ratty maroon hoodie with the most obnoxiously _not_ fitted jeans he’d ever seen. Knowing his behavior as evident the night before, Whizzer decided not to greet him as he walked past him to their indoor fridge.

He pulled out a carton of milk that he had bought for himself, poured cereal (okay, he knew this was childish to eat at 6 pm but he was craving for this and after the previous dried fish incident, he was looking for something less fishy) to a bowl before pouring the milk over it. He noticed that the seal was opened when he opened it, and he made a note to tell Marvin that he should buy his own milk rather than taking Whizzer’s.

The milk was red.

Whizzer raised an eyebrow, not registering it at once.

_What?_

The milk was red and it smelled slightly _fishy_.

Wait.

“What the fuck—“

Before he could freak out, he felt the carton being taken away from his hand. Marvin was standing behind him, undeniably close; Whizzer could feel the warmth of his breath on the back of his neck. He turned to see Marvin, tilted head and unreadable expression, staring at him for a second, as if searching for something that Whizzer wasn’t sure was there or not.

“That’s my drink,” Marvin said, as if Whizzer had not realized that _holy fuck, that was_ fucking _blood_. Like he was reading Whizzer’s expression like an open book, he added at the end: “No, it isn’t blood, don’t be stupid. It’s just a protein smoothie. Please don’t drink it, I’m not sure you will like it.”

“I didn’t say it was blood,” Whizzer replied, knowing that he wasn’t thoroughly convinced that that was a smoothie, no matter how red the dragon fruit Marvin’s juice dealer was using. “I wasn’t planning to. It smells like shit.”

“This _shit_ is very healthy and expensive,” Marvin added. He took away the bowl of cereal and brought it to his bed, started eating it, to Whizzer’s annoyance. “Don’t go through my stuff.” He shouted over his shoulder.

But all was forgotten to the realization that his roommate might be a vampire.

 

*

 

“A _vampire_.”

Cordelia, on the other hand, did not seem thoroughly convinced either, though the opposite of what Whizzer thought.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Whiz,” she said as she picked at the soggy fries that she had smuggled away from the cafeteria. They were walking side by side under the sunny weather, Cordelia wanting to get to the theatre building to meet with her friend—the building that was luckily on the same way where Whizzer was heading. “There’s no such thing as vampire. Even if that’s blood, he probably just has iron deficiency or something and needs it to survive.”

“Delia, do I look stupid? No sickness warrant _drinking_ _blood_ to survive. That’s why transfusion exists.”

“You’re insulting everyone in the world who does eat blood sausage.”

Whizzer sighed loudly. “He’s just a terrible person. He also accused me of wanting to drink that shit and I was like, _me? I won’t be caught dead drinking blood._ ”

“It’s been only a few days, you’ll grow to like him, or at least tolerate him eventually. Besides, isn’t he very nearly almost never at home?” Cordelia fed one of the fries to Whizzer, who ate it quickly from her fingers. “At least you got your room for yourself. My roommate’s very fussy and very _straight_. I guess no college romance for me!”

“No one caught your eye yet?” Whizzer asked as he put his hands inside the leather jacket he was wearing.

They were passing one of the sorority buildings when they were halted by the sound of arrow passing in front of them. Whizzer was pretty sure he almost got heart attack as he noticed that there was a real arrow buried in the tree a few steps away from them.

“I’m so sorry!” Someone riding a white _horse_ in the middle of the day approached them. She was a dark-skinned girl with a beautiful curly hair, carrying a bowstring in the left hand and the reins of the horse in another. “Are you two okay?” She asked as she carefully, but with style, got off her horse.

Whizzer was, nevertheless to say, amazed.

“Oh, it’s okay, it didn’t hurt us at all!” Cordelia exclaimed, a light blush appearing on her cheeks. “I didn’t know there are an archery club in here.”

The girl smiled at Cordelia. “I’m Charlotte DuBois, VP of Summer Society. You should join us! We’re the female athletic student body here.” She glanced at Whizzer. “You probably can’t join, but we lift up the gender policy when we’re doing our festivals for our committee, so I’m sure you can help. Just don’t join Zeta Omega Mu. I’m pretty sure they’re filled with the brim of terrible people.”

“The group who tried to filled the assembly hall with dried fish? Yeah, no thanks,” Whizzer shuddered in horror to remember that accident. He found the dried fish the next morning inside his bag and had to stop himself from screaming in disgust as he tried to get the smell out of it.

Cordelia who was positively beaming at the sight of Charlotte’s smile, scratched his head shyly, in that adorable way of hers. Whizzer scoffed softly. “Uh, I’m not sure I’m good at athletic… I’m really only good at cooking and I don’t exercise a lot…”

Flirtily, Charlotte put her hand on Cordelia’s arm and laughed. “Then be our manager! It’ll be my pleasure to eat anything a pretty girl like you cook.”

Then, after pulling out the arrow from the tree, Charlotte left with her horse, draping quickly to the horizon.

Whizzer turned to Cordelia with a teasing grin. “I guess there _is_ a college romance for you, huh, Dee?”

She hit his shoulder playfully. “Oh, don’t you start giving me hope like that. What if she’s not into girls?”

“Jesus, I don’t know what is it with you and lesbians. It’ll be your wedding day and you will still have the nerve to ask your partner ‘ _oh, but are you really into girls, though_?’”

The rest of the journey to the theatre building was not that eventful. They ran out of ketchup before the fries, which made Cordelia throw it away inside a bin at the end. Nearing the theatre building, they started to hear creepy hymns from inside that travel through the opened entrance. Whizzer raised an eyebrow. There was really something odd about AU—and even without the gothic architecture, it had become a marvel to discover that there were still new parts of the school to surprise him.

They stopped at the entrance. The Latin hymn was clearer now. It was morbid; the voices are wonderful, the aura it was giving was not. Whizzer frowned at Cordelia as she excitedly checked the map to see where the drama trials were at.

“Please don’t get murdered in here,” he said as he frowned at the direction the songs were coming from.

“You’re so dramatic. There’s nothing wrong in here, just as there’s nothing wrong with your roommate.”

“Come over and try to pour that ‘smoothie’ yourself. It’s _blood_.”

“It’s protein smoothie, I told you,” someone said from their back. They turned to see Marvin, crossing his arms and giving Whizzer a dirty look. “Can you stop spreading baseless, nonsense rumors, Brown? I don’t expect you to be a gossipy person.” His eyes traveled up and down condescendingly, and it takes every ounce of Whizzer’s patience not to pounce on him right now. “Trying out for the drama club?”

“Just my friend. Don’t worry. I’ll stay out your way. I’m not aiming to have more time with such an infuriating person,” Whizzer said with a smirk. He turned to Cordelia, who was looking at them with raised eyebrows. “Be careful around him, okay? You don’t want him to _suck your energy dry_ with his negativity.”

“Whizzer,” Cordelia warned.

“I’m going,” he patted her head before turning away, eager to get out of that place as soon as possible.

He could still feel Marvin’s sharp gaze at him as he walked away.

 

*

 

It took Whizzer most of his patience not to scream at the amount of _hair_ was in the shower drain when he came back. What is with this guy? Is he a fucking furry? In annoyance, he lifted it out with an unused pen before throwing the hair and the pen to the bin.

He came back to his bed with a small sigh. Okay, he needed to calm down. There was no point trying to antagonize a person like Marvin. He was used with these types—the best way to deal with them was to ignore them completely until they deflate on their own, not giving them attention unless it was absolutely necessary. And Whizzer could manage that. He knew he could, he’s been dealing with these types since middle school.

He headed to the cupboards to find his favorite mug—the one with the writing ‘MOVE, I’M GAY’ on it that had been a gift from his priest cousin he was close with when he came out to him—only to find that it was used and discarded on the counter.

Ignoring?

He lifted it up and poured the content to the sink, where it colored the sink with red, immediately filling the entire room with a fishy smell.

“ _HHHHHRGHHHHHHHHH_.”

Fuck that.

He was going to expose the bastard.

 

*

 

Whizzer woke up with a nightmare. His body was sweaty as he sat up, his heart beating loudly in his chest. He didn’t realize he was falling asleep as he waited for Marvin to come back. The light was off (he didn’t remember turning it off either) and there was a light breeze coming from the slightly opened window.

The dream was not scary as much as creepy; he saw a little boy crying under his bed, and Whizzer was trying to convince him to go out from the bed and explained what was going on when there was a wild roar from outside of the door.

“Nightmare?”

Whizzer flinched as he realized that he wasn’t alone. His eyes could not see in the darkness, but he knew from the voice that it was none other than his roommate, talking from the vicinity of the window. He heard the sound of the window clicking closed before he sensed a shift at the end of his bed.

“It’s nothing,” he dismissed.

He felt Marvin held his hand. “You look afraid.”

In the darkness, Whizzer scowled. “You can’t even see my face.” But the hand calmed him, somehow, like it was reassuring him in the silence.

“I’ve been in a darkness for a while, so I can see.”

“Bullshit,” Whizzer said with a small laugh. He didn’t mean it to sound so sharp, but it had sound more sarcastic than he was intended, earning Marvin’s hand to be pulled away from his.

Marvin’s voice sounded slightly angry when he said: “Oh, fuck me for caring then.”

Whizzer couldn’t answer that. He tried to see in the darkness, but all he could see was the outline of the window from far away. At the end, he lied back down on the bed, feeling the bed creak from under him, while it did not seem like Marvin even moved from the end of his bed, because he didn’t hear him get up.

“Marvin,” he called after a long silence.

“Hm?” He was right, the bastard was still sitting there.

Whizzer wanted to say thank you for Marvin to bother to held his hand. But it was so unlike him that he decided not to. At the end, he pressed his lips together before finally settling: “Use your own damned mug next time.”


	2. A Party and a Heckle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Booze makes thing flirty. Hangovers makes things fighty.

The next morning, he awoke to find a lump of a blanket at the other side of the room. The owner was nowhere to be found, to Whizzer’s relief. It seemed like he had left in the middle of dawn or something—after his nightmare had went last night, Whizzer found himself unable to go to sleep until hours later, feeling a pair of eyes watching him from the distance in silence.

It was a little creepy.

He heated up water for tea and was going to start his morning routine when there was a knock at the door. He stumbled on what looked like a speaker on the ground trying to get to the door. When he was opening it, he was holding his hurt toe with a scowl on his face. Fucking Marvin.

The door swung open to reveal Mendel, face a little sweaty, with a horrible looking workout clothes, staring up at Whizzer’s stubbed toe before lifting his gaze to his face. Whizzer knew there was a gym somewhere in the university grounds, complete with an additional sport area for every kind of sports. He should ask him where it was, since Whizzer had slept in to avoid campus tour (lucky, since Cordelia texted him that Zeta Omega Mu was hanging around and flirting with, he quoted, ‘anyone with boobs and legs’).

“What’s up, Mendel?” Whizzer let go of his toe. He leaned on the doorframe.

“Oh, yes. Here,” he handed a hand-drawn brochure to Whizzer. “There’s going to be a welcoming party at the lounge this weekend. I actually handed the brochure already, but it was Marvin at the door and he actually threw it away in front of my face and told me to screw off.”

_That sounds like him, alright_. “Thanks,” he said with a sincere smile. “I’ll go to anything that involve that dickhead.”

“Mm, how is he as a roommate?”

He was horrible—his things are strewn around, Whizzer found Marvin’s sweater strewn on his bed once—but last night’s incident made him think twice. Also, he wasn’t a snitch. “He’s fine,” he answered.

“Has Trina…” a cough, “come around?”

Whizzer raised an eyebrow, not recognizing the name. “I have no idea who that is.”

“Wavy brown hair, beautiful features…?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” Whizzer answered at once. He narrowed his eyes. It was painfully obvious how much Mendel was crushing with this Trina, though her involvement with Marvin made Whizzer wonder what kind of person she was, and how patient she was if she had to deal with that sour-faced bastard all the time. “But he’s never here. So, honestly, I won’t know.”

“Oh.” Mendel looked flustered. “Oh. Oh, anyway, please come to the party.”

Whizzer looked down at the brochure. It was really hand-drawn, though the writing is familiar. He felt like he’s seen it before. It’s mostly just words and modern calligraphy, with the title ‘WELCOME PARTY’ and the times and place below it, and of course, what attracted Whizzer the most: ‘free booze!’

He shrugged. “Sure.” It wasn’t like he had another thing up his schedule beside boring basic classes. Besides, who can say no to free booze?

 

*

 

Cordelia’s dorm room was on the same building, just at the first floor, near the public kitchen, and Whizzer found himself hanging around her room as she freaked out about one of her painting assignments. He laid around in her bed, browsing Instagram absent-mindedly scrolling through his Explore, not really paying attention to what he was looking at.

“I met with Charlotte again yesterday. She apparently was the Teacher’s Assistant for Women History. Oh my god, she was _lovely_ ,” Cordelia said from her desk. “She even offered me her old notes and her number just in case I have some questions about the class.”

“What she’s asking is you to contact her,” Whizzer muttered as he ran out of slime videos to view.

“What if she’s not gay and just being nice?”

“She sounds very gay to me. Come on, lesbian knight on a white horse? Really?”

She threw a small piece of eraser at him.

Whizzer had an idea to search for Marvin on Instagram and of course, he wasn’t on it. Which time period was this dinosaur even from? What kind of person his age these days don’t have any social media? Was he a serial killer? Was he an ex-con trying to avoid himself from being recognized?

Whizzer was halfway into typing his name on Google when Cordelia’s door was opened. A tall, thin brunette walked in, brows furrowed as she saw Whizzer laying on the bed.

“Oh, hi, Trina,” Cordelia greeted her.

“Hey,” Trina said, going straight to her side of the room at once. “Who’s this?”

“Whizzer Brown, photography major,” he sat up to the wall and waved at her, almost knocking over one of the glass frames that Cordelia had hung on the wall. “I’ve heard Mendel mention you a lot.”

“Oh, are you from the third floor? You’ll be in good hands. I’m Trina. Literature.” Trina smiled in a polite but also friendly manner. She seemed to be searching for something on her bed. “Who are you rooming with? Another freshman?”

“Marvin B,” Whizzer replied.

“The infamous vampire,” Cordelia commented dryly.

Trina stared at them two with a shock on her face. Whizzer found himself raising his eyebrow at the sight. It looked weird, like she was feigning it. He scoffed softly. Maybe he _was_ a vampire. What interesting years of studying he was going to have if he really were.

“My boyfriend isn’t a vampire,” Trina said finally after a long silence that made even Cordelia turn away from her assignment.

_Oh?_ Whizzer forced down a laugh. So, this was why Mendel had been asking about them before. His poor heart. He saw Trina glancing at them, as if asking for a response.

Whizzer just shrugged. “It’s a joke, Trina. We know it’s protein smoothie.”

“Oh,” Trina looked flustered. “Okay then.”

Yeah. Not weird at all.

She left shortly, leaving them with an awkward silence that made Whizzer glance back at his phone. Cordelia gave him a look when the door closed, as if acknowledging the oddity that had just happened.

“Do you know if she has any Instagram?”

“Oh, I follow her, her account is locked though,” Cordelia rolled on her desk chair and handed her iPhone to him.

Whizzer opened her Instagram and checked her following until he found Trina’s name. Her page was simple, mostly pictures of her with family, a picture of Mendel laying on the ground in the tennis court, another picture of Mendel laughing in the cafeteria with a tray balanced on his head, but no pictures of Marvin until about twenty pictures prior—and even then, it was just a simple picture of them laughing on the entrance of the library. For a boyfriend, he sure appeared sparingly in her public life.

**trinahayes** _Best friends for life._ @marvb

“Anything interesting?” Cordelia asked without lifting her face from the assignment.

Whizzer clicked the username, and found the account to be a locked account with only the initial ‘M’ on the display name. The picture wasn’t even a clear view of his face, only a picture from the back of his body, like it was taken candidly. No wonder he can’t find his account earlier.

“Nothing,” he answered Cordelia. “There is _someone_ though.”

 

*

 

He was hit by the smell of alcohol when he came back. Whizzer scrunched his nose as he pushed the door closed behind him. There was an empty wine bottle on the small table beside Marvin’s bed, accompanied by a half-full wine glass.

Out of curiosity, Whizzer picked it up and smelled it. The familiar smell of red wine hit his nose at once. Thank God, it’s not blood.

He put it down before the owner appeared. He pulled out his laptop from its case before sitting down on his bed and booting it, opening Google to search for something.

When he was at his second page of his little research, Marvin walked out of the bathroom, chest bared, towel wrapping his lower body. Whizzer’s eyes glanced quickly, finding himself staring at the sight of muscular arms that were usually covered by Marvin’s horrible collection of plaid shirts. He sure has… arms.

Marvin picked up his glass, taking a sip. He was making his way to his cupboard when he stopped near Whizzer’s desk. Whizzer eyes came back to his screen at once.

“The party’s shit every year.”

Whizzer looked up to find Marvin looking at him, like he was expecting an answer. Whizzer raised an eyebrow.

“You shouldn’t come. Mendel can never organize this kind of occasion to save his life,” Marvin continued when he didn’t answer.

Okay, there was sure some kind of animosity between both of them that he couldn’t comprehend. He guessed that this was about Trina’s closeness with Mendel and vice-versa. Poor girl, trapped between one passive man and one aggressive one.

“I want to come, though. Free booze is free booze,” Whizzer answered.

A scoff. “You’re better off going to Zeta Omega Mu’s party. They have a party organized for this night too.”

“And be the token gay person there? No thank you. My friend helped organize this thing, and I’m not planning to have dried fish stuck in my hair again.” Whizzer replied in a matter-of-fact way, but with enough sharpness in his choice of words to count. “Why are you here anyway? Aren’t you a member of their fraternity?”

“No.”

“I see.”

“I don’t think you’ll be the token gay person there.”

“Glad to hear that they’re inclusive, but no thank you,” dismissed Whizzer. He closed the tab of ‘Vampire History’ in his Google Chrome before closing his laptop. “What is your deal with Mendel, anyway? He’s a nice guy. He’s not the only one organizing this party, his involvement doesn’t mean that it’s going to be ‘shit’,” Whizzer put airquotes in his words.

Marvin took a step back with a frown. “It’s not your problem. Suit yourself, Brown.” He shrugged slightly before continuing his way to the cupboard and pulling clothes, walking back to the bathroom.

“Clean your hair from the drain!” Whizzer yelled after that mop of hair disappeared.

 

*

 

The days leading to the party was downright boring—he was forced to go through lectures of Philosophy and History for credits, something that made him want to die in his nap there if not only for the realization that he needed to pay attention to pass. The party became the beacon in his otherwise dark week, and Whizzer actually was excited to finally be able to forget his assignments and drink himself to sleep.

He picked a casual but fashionable shirt from his pile of clothes, enjoying the solitude as Marvin had not come back to the room for two days. The silence suited him; if he got bored, he could easily go two flights of stairs below. Usually, Cordelia even invited him to go to watch Summer Society practices, which apparently has “no strict gender policy on whoever’s viewing as long as they respect the athletes”.

He headed to the lounge to find that it was already full. He managed to find Charlotte and Cordelia in the corner, obviously flirting with each other over a glass of alcoholic fruit punch or whatever it was in the refreshment table.

“Hey,” he greeted them, feeling slightly guilty for interrupting their moment.

“Hi, Whizzer!” Cordelia greeted him first.

“Whizzer,” Charlotte grinned at him.

“God, I need to drink at once. Are they only serving that?” He nudged to the glass they were holding.

Cordelia nodded. “Uh, yes, about that, we actually had lost our alcohol stash. Apparently, some sophomore had gone through it quickly for a dare or something. Mendel and Trina’s gone off to purchase more, but they haven’t come back yet.”

“What’s the deal with them? Is there some kind of relationship between them or something?” He shot this more to Charlotte who was stroking Cordelia’s hand. Uh, maybe he really needed to stop bothering these two.

Charlotte shook her head. “Trina’s dating Marvin… as far as I know.”

He shrugged. “He sure didn’t show up with her often. I haven’t heard him mention her name once when he’s around.”

Cordelia hiccupped and took a sip of the fruit punch again before adding, “You know, I never heard her mention Marvin beside from that previous incident, either. Mendel, though, ugh, it’s like she’s writing a bunch of poetry about him every day.”

“The straights are at it again,” Whizzer joked.

“They sure are unbelievably complicated,” Charlotte replied.

Whizzer raised his eyebrow and glanced at Cordelia’s eyes. Cordelia stared at him back. They shared a look; one on his face as if saying _see I told you she’s not straight_ and one in Cordelia’s eyes as if saying _oh my God Whizzer you are the bestest friend the world has ever seen and it’s a wonder that you’re still alive because everyone is jealous at your charm_.

At least that was what Whizzer thought the stare meant.

“I’ll get some drinks,” Whizzer winked at Cordelia before leaving at once.

Whizzer was on his second glass of the punch, talking to a cute guy that honestly looked like stereotypical closeted Catholic, enjoying teasing and pushing buttons when he heard choirs of happy shouts from near the entrance. He glanced to see that Mendel and Trina was back with the booze—and behind them, Marvin crossing his arms with a small frown.

Whizzer scoffed at the sight. Shitty party, still here, right? Though it was probably only because Trina bothered to attend it, he was sure.

“You know,” he turned back to the guy again, “want to leave to my room? We can continue this conversation upstairs.”

The guy looked flustered. Oh, he was really cute, wasn’t he?

“Uh—uh. I think I’ll stay here.”

Whizzer frowned. “You sure?”

“Yes, sorry, but this is—I’m not looking for this,” the guy coughed, his cheeks rosy.

At the end, Whizzer just shrugged. “Whatever,” he walked away to go ask for some booze from the one guarding the stash.

As it turned out, Marvin was the one guarding the stash in the kitchen—he was even playing bartender, serving alcohol to anyone interested. Whizzer approached with a frown, smiling at the sight of that face that currently housed no expression, that turned to sour quickly when he saw Whizzer approach.

“I thought you thought the party’s shit,” he asked with a smirk as he leaned to the kitchen’s island.

Marvin handed him a shot of alcohol before answering, “It’s my responsibility. I drank the previous stash, so Trina told me to play bartender for an hour.”

“You did?”

A shrug. “It was a dare.”

Drinking the shot in one shot, Whizzer winced slightly as the burn of the vodka traveled his throat. “Ugh.”

He was surprised to hear Marvin’s low chuckle.

“Drink with me,” he told Marvin.

Marvin looked at him like he had just grown three heads. But he put another shot glass on the island and poured the same vodka for both of them.

Whizzer didn’t remember how much he’d drink until he realized he was slightly lightheaded. He chuckled as he leaned further to the island, staring at Marvin. He didn’t realize before how very _blue_ those eyes were. Marvin, on the other hand, seemed to still be sober, chin on his hand, watching attentively every movement he made.

Not sure if it was the effect of alcohol or people around them, this time he didn’t feel creeped out.

It was alcohol acting out when he put his hand on Marvin’s hand, feeling the coldness below his skin. “God, you are so fucking cold!” He exclaimed as he pulled his hand away. He frowned at Marvin’s direction, who had the nerve to look amused. “Look, you have to tell me head on now. Are you really a vampire or not?”

Another breathy chuckle fled away from those lips. He smiled for the first time Whizzer had seen him since their first meeting and asked, almost teasingly: “Will it wound my prospect if I answer that?”

“What prospect? You _speak_ like an old man,” his pointer finger was stabbing the air in front of Marvin’s face then. “You act like an old man. Those are answers, you know, maybe you _are_ a vampire. Even your name sounds old.”

“Your name is literally Whizzer,” Marvin argued, though there was zero sharpness in his words. “The nerve to criticize other’s names…”

“It’s not my real name. It’s a nickname. What do you have as an excuse?”

A small smile darted in Marvin’s lips. “My excuse is I’m an old man,” he said as he poured another shot to his own glass.

Whizzer snorted so loudly at that that he could taste the bitterness of vodka at the back of his throat.

By this time, the music had increasingly grown louder, filling the room with loud thumping that made Whizzer’s head buzzed with hurt. He leaned on the table and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. God, somebody needed to turn that down.

“It’s not so bad,” he heard Marvin say.

“Huh?”

“The party isn’t so bad. Though, I probably find it amusing because of you.” He felt something moved his hair, and from the slight coldness, he guessed that it was Marvin’s fingers. “Without you, I’m not so sure this party would be as enjoyable.”

Whizzer opened his eyes at once, feeling soberness suddenly slapped his face.

He was struck by the realization that _Marvin was flirting_.

He pulled away at once, noticing the twitch of Marvin’s lips as the fingers that a mere seconds ago were touching his hair was forced to snap away. Whizzer stared straight at him.

“Are you—you have a _girlfriend_ ,” he said accusingly.

Marvin looked confused for a second before he processed that. “Oh. Did Trina say that?” There was some kind of annoyance in his eyes as he scoffed. “Well, she really likes to say that these days.”

“God, you are an asshole,” Whizzer remembered Trina’s face during their conversation in Cordelia’s room. “You might not be a vampire, but you’re sure an asshole.”

Marvin stared at him for a moment. Whizzer waited for him to say something, to offer explanation, excuse, _anything_. But he clamped his mouth shut, stared at Whizzer as if expecting he to continue talking.

Then he shrugged.

Whizzer rolled his eyes and stumbled away.

 

*

 

He was nursing a hangover on the seats of the theatre hall, Cordelia on the seat in front of him with her head on Charlotte’s shoulder. The auditions were over and they were only lounging around in the darkness while they skip their respective classes, and for Whizzer’s case, to avoid the too-bright sun that hurt his head even more.

“Oooh, is he going to sing?” He heard Cordelia say in front of him.

“Oh, you’re going to love this one. He’s actually the favorite in the drama department, he has this wonderful singing voice…”

Whizzer opened one of his eyes and peeked. Marvin was on the stage beside the piano, talking quietly with Trina as she started to play some notes in the piano. They looked happy. They were both plastered with smiles. Remembering the previous night, Whizzer couldn’t help but to scowl.

“What a waste,” he remarked, more to himself than anyone in particular.

“What’s a waste?”

Whizzer lifted his head to see Cordelia had turned around to look at him. “His voice,” he answered. “He’s an asshole. A good voice is wasted on an asshole.”

“Assholes are often talented,” Charlotte commented.

Whizzer snorted. “Fair enough.” He leaned back down to go back to sleep again, but was interrupted by the sound of someone singing. It felt like the entire room’s air has been sucked out all of the sudden. Not because it was terrible. It was because his voice was _beautiful_ , but with an odd sound, an odd _something_ that Whizzer couldn’t place.

Whizzer, again, opened one of his eyes. Marvin was singing while he leaned back on the piano, Trina’s skillful hand dancing over the keys like a professional.

It was beautiful. It was also so fucking annoying to see that it infuriated him.

Before he could think further, he heckled: “BEAUTIFUL’S VOICE WASTED ON AN ASSHOLE!”

He could physically hear the sound stopping so abruptly, leaving them with a grating silence. Cordelia and Charlotte both looked at him in horror. He smirked in the silence, enjoying the scowl on Marvin’s face, the shocked look on Trina.

He was already losing interest when he saw Marvin leapt over the stage, gracefully—how the fuck, Whizzer thought—landing on the space in front of it, and walking towards them, his footsteps sounding like alarm in Whizzer’s ears. And Whizzer couldn’t help thinking that there was something animalistic in the way he stormed to the place they were sitting at, to the point that even Cordelia leaned away and Charlotte stood up at once, hand darting out in front of Whizzer.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Marvin snapped at Whizzer.

“It was just a heckle. Calm down.” Whizzer rolled his eyes, though if he were to be honest he might be a little scared right now.

“What is it with you?” He threw his hand up. “I didn’t do _anything_.”

“You didn’t do _anything_?” Whizzer felt his emotions blaring; he stood up and pressed his pointer finger to Marvin’s chest. “You are a terrible roommate. You leave hair _everywhere_ , your things are never in order, you used my mug for your—your ‘protein smoothie’—“ airquotes here, “which is fucking revolting, by the way, and every single one of us know that it’s not protein smoothie, we’re not idiots, and you _flirted_ with me when you have a girlfriend!”

“I _don’t_ have a girlfriend,” Marvin pushed his finger away.

“And I’m into girls.” Whizzer sarcastically replied.

Marvin raised an eyebrow. “You are?”

“Oh, thank God, you are a _genius_ , I’m waiting for you to realize that,” Whizzer muttered, still talking sarcastically; though from the confusion in Marvin’s face he was a little surprised to see that he might be taken seriously. “I don’t, dumbass. Have you looked at me? That was sarcasm.”

“I think both of you need to calm down,” Charlotte warned with an edge of annoyance in her voice.

“He started it,” Marvin retorted with a shrug.

Cordelia commented in the midst of this: “He flirted with you?”

“Just _fuck off_ ,” he told Marvin, “and don’t give me mixed signals if you have a girlfriend. It’s confusing _and_ hurtful. Dee, I think I’m going to leave. You know where to find me.”

Before his words could be replied, he shoved Marvin aside and walked away to the exit, dreading every step as he realized that even as he came back to his room, he still had to deal with fucking Marvin Blumenfeld coming back too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um okay, ty for reading!!!! thank you for the kudos also. there will be more mendel next chapter since i love that nervous man so much ;-; we will see mendel/cordelia/whizzer having a little bonding time.


	3. The Bunker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Whizzer kept staring at the door, waiting for it to swing open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is... a messy chapterTM and i would probably edit it as we go along but for now, pls enjoy the update <3

2:04.

He had been staring at the door for the last hour. It had not moved since the last time he closed it after Mendel dropped in to see if he was interested in joining their sport event on Wednesday. (He said yes, of course, he had not been exercising since he’d been ‘ _busy_ ’ adapting with his new environment, which needed to change, since he’d been noticing a little bit of weight gain mostly in stomach area.) Which meant that after the incident on the theatre hall, Marvin had decided not to come home. Whizzer did not know whether to feel relieved or upset.

He probably _should_ feel relieved.

He laid back down and stared at the laptop on his lap. It’s been playing the first season of Sense8 since the last hour—it was his fifth time seeing it—though he had not been paying full attention to the screen. Maybe he shouldn’t think about it too much. It wasn’t like this was the first time the owner of the bed across of the room decided it wasn’t worth his time of night to sleep in this room. For most of Whizzer’s days here, he’d spent it alone with the company of his laptop or Cordelia’s constant whining about her assignments.

The problem was he couldn’t stop mulling about what happened earlier. He knew he could’ve handled it better. That it wasn’t wise to provoke Marvin like that, considering that Whizzer’s suspicion about him being a vampire was still up for discussion. He might suck his blood dry during his sleep or something.

At the end, Whizzer closed his laptop and moved his body so he was lying on his side. He should try to sleep. He had class the next morning at 8, it was unbecoming to stay up late for no reason when he didn’t have any assignments to do; he could save the hours he spent awake thinking about Marvin by sleeping and dreaming about something nicer. _Someone_ nicer.

He was half-asleep when he heard a crash outside. Whizzer sat up at once, looking around. The lamp at his bedside was still on, and Marvin’s was out, hiding the part of his bed where Whizzer had thrown his previously scattered things at. Hushed voices and things bumping into another traveled through the thin walls as Whizzer grabbed the phone that he put under his pillow.

Slowly, he got up and headed for the door. As quietly as possible, he turned the knob and pushed the door slightly outside, peeking from the tiny crack, careful not to be found out.

“Marvin—please get up.”

A woman’s voice was the first one to hit his ears. It sounded like Charlotte was speaking, which confused Whizzer, since Charlotte had made it like he only knew Marvin in passing.

He squinted his eyes to see two figures at the end of the corridor, near where the stairs were located. One was hunched on the ground, clawing at the wall, and the other one was standing with a hand stretched out to the other, trying to get them to get up.

“Just leave me alone, Char, I can handle it,” Whizzer recognized the low grumble of Marvin’s voice reply.

Charlotte let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t enjoy taking care of you as much as Trina does. You need not to piss _them_ off like that, Marv. As if it isn’t enough you’re practically _flaunting_ your status to Whizzer. Protein shake, really?”

Whizzer felt his blood turn cold at the mention of his name.

“One of these days you’re going to get killed,” Charlotte added when Marvin didn’t reply.

“It won’t be the first time,” Marvin replied flatly. He pushed himself from the floor to stand.

“Stop drinking too much, okay?”

“It’s just _alcohol_. It isn’t like I’m draining someone’s blood.”

“Can you make it to your room?”

“Yes. Anything to say to my gorgeous roommate?”

“No. Behave, Marv,” Charlotte punched Marvin’s shoulder in what seemed like a playful gesture, but hearing how hard it sounded from Whizzer’s position, it didn’t seem playful. “Whoops, sorry. Still adjusting to the new power.”

“It’s fine.”

Whizzer, as quietly as possible, pulled the door and closed it before scrambling back to his bed. He laid on his side and closed his eyes, his face facing the wall. He heard the click of the door as it opened and another one as it closed.

It was quiet for a moment.

And then Marvin asked, right from behind him: “Are you awake?”

Another silence followed the question. Whizzer held on to the façade stubbornly, mimicking slow breath of sleep as his answer. Hearing the conversation between Charlotte and Marvin gave him more questions, questions that he wasn’t sure where to look for answers. As if it wasn’t enough to be distrustful towards Marvin, he was now faced with the dilemma whether to say to Cordelia about this new predicament.

“I know you’re still awake,” Marvin interrupted his thoughts. “Were you listening in?”

Whizzer was silent for a moment before replying: “No. Go to sleep, Marvin.”

To his surprise, Marvin seemed to drop it at once he heard the answer. He heard a sound of a few things being put on the floor and the bed creaked as Marvin laid on it. Then silence. Silence that grew for hours, silence that did not calm his erratic mind.

That night Whizzer did not sleep.

 

*

 

“You look horrible,” was Whizzer’s first words that morning.

The 8 am class was the class Cordelia and him had. As Whizzer tend to run on time to class—and Cordelia early—they always met in the class instead of waiting for each other in the entrance of the dorm. The seat on the back was like a reserved throne just for them. Cordelia was already sitting on their seat when he walked in, dark circles under her eyes and a yawn on her lips.

“You _also_ look horrible,” Cordelia shot back at Whizzer. She slid a cup of coffee to his direction, which Whizzer accepted without question (it had turned into a habit: Cordelia would buy coffee before class and previously always checked if he wanted one, and since he always had the same order, she ended up always buying him one every morning). “Did you not get some sleep last night? What happened? You clocked out of the chat on 11.”

“I wanted to sleep and somehow ended up binging Sense8,” Whizzer took a sip of the coffee.

“Oh, mood.”

They fell into silence as Cordelia continued sketching on her book and the lecturer walked in. Whizzer stared into space, his mind crawling to the previous night’s event. He wanted to say something about Charlotte—but what would be the point? Her lying about knowing Marvin said and affect nothing about her current relationship with Cordelia. Though her remarks about ‘adjusting to her new power’ was another matter entirely…

“Whizzer?” Cordelia whispered at him. He didn’t notice at first until she pinched his arm. “ _Whizzer_!”

“Mr. Brown, I’m talking to you,” the lecturer called him out from in front of him. He looked up, only noticing that he’d been called multiple times. His lecturer’s face looked slightly bored, like he’d rather be in someplace else than there. “Please enlighten us all about Aristotle’s views on aesthetic.”

“Uh…”

“Have you done any of your reading, Mr. Brown?”

“…No,” Whizzer confessed darkly.

“I’m sure that every one of you would like a concrete reason to read. Two pages essay on Aristotle’s aesthetic theory. Next week. All of you.” The lecturer stated, earning a collective groan and many of dagger gaze pointed at Whizzer, who only put his palm on his face in annoyance. The middle-aged man then went back to droning about Plato again, as if he had not publicly tainted Whizzer’s reputation.

“Goddamn, Whiz,” Cordelia muttered. “I’m sure the whole class hate you now.”

“Do you?” Whizzer huffed from behind his fingers.

“I could never hate you.”

“Good,” he flipped open his Aesthetic book and groaned softly. “Then I don’t care.” This earned a soft ‘awww’ from his friend.

Whizzer spent the entirety of the lecture scribbling lyrics and incoherent thoughts to the edges of his book, occasionally commenting on Cordelia’s sketches in the meantime. When the class ended, as he had no other class and Cordelia had to run along to her anatomy class, he walked alone aimlessly, his mind fuzzy from lack of sleep.

When his steps halted, he realized he was in front of the theatre building. The choir seemed like it never stopped. He still heard them from the slightly opened entrance, and after promising himself that he was going to check it out, he ended up walking inside (and if he wasn’t allowed to watch, he could just sneak into the theatre hall and slept on the seats anyway). He followed the hymns, passing the big doors of the hall, to a door in a dimly-lit corridor, slips of paper that looks like big tapes covering the edges of the door. He raised an eyebrow at it.

He reached for the door knob. Once he touched it, though, he immediately felt faint. His legs had no energy below him, and he found himself slipping to the floor. His vision swam. What the hell…? He hunched over in front of the door, feeling his consciousness slowly slipping away…

Then he felt like he was being lift up.

“Idiot,” he heard someone mutter. As he was suddenly half-awake, he could only lean to the touch—and though the skin around him felt cold, it was more comfortable than the floor.

When he finally gathered his consciousness again, he realized he was at an unfamiliar room with cables and spotlights above him. Huh? This must’ve been the back of the stage, he realized. There was something squishy under his head. He tried to get up but was unable to due to the hand on his chest.

“Don’t get up first,” the previous voice told him.

“Who…?”

“I don’t know if anyone told you this yet, _Whizzer_ , but the Glee club is _literally_ soul-sucking, and unless you want to sell your soul to the devil, I suggest not getting close to that room.”

“Mendel… told me that. But I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Then let me repeat what the jackass said: the club will literally suck out your life force.”

Whizzer squinted his eyes to whose lap he was in. Then he saw the bright blue eyes, the brown curls _and_ the arms. “Marvin?” he called out.

“At your service,” the other answered with a sarcastic tone.

He tried to get up again, but the hand on his chest was too strong. At the end, he leaned back again with a huff of frustration, looking at the eyes that were staring at him… almost gently this time, much to Whizzer’s confusion. “Are you always here at the theatre hall? Don’t you have an actual class?” Whizzer asked as he felt the hand being removed from his chest as soon as he stopped struggling.

“I do. I’m just not obligated to attend it.” Marvin removed a strand of hair from Whizzer’s forehead.

“How is a student not obligated to attend class? How do you graduate?”

A chuckle. “I’m a very special Philosophy student. I know the class like the back of my hand.”

Whizzer wondered to himself what that meant. He stared at the guy whose lap he was laying on as he glanced to the side, a light illuminating his face as soon as he did—presumably looking at his phone. While he was distracted, he shot back a very courageous question: “Are you a vampire?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does.”

“Don’t you want to know something else?”

A beat before Whizzer asked, staring at Marvin’s face, noticing right now how pale his skin was. “Is Trina really not your girlfriend?”

“No,” Marvin glanced at him again with a small smile. “She’s my best friend who is very concerned with my safety. She says those things to protect me.”

“So, you _are_ a vampire.”

Marvin only smiled at that.

“I accidentally heard your conversation with Charlotte last night.” He saw how Marvin’s smile slowly change to a frown, brows furrowing to glare at him. “No, you don’t get to look at me like that. You two weren’t exactly being quiet. What did she mean about her power? Should I be concerned about that in relation to Cordelia’s relationship with her?”

Marvin sighed heavily. “Charlotte really likes Cordelia, Whizzer. She’ll be okay. The power she just acquired won’t affect her relationship with Cordelia at all. I promise.”

“What is _wrong_ with this school?”

“A lot. Why do you think the tuition’s so low?”

“Uh, I don’t know—maybe it’s not privatized? Anything that’s not ‘the-whole’s-school-basically-a-cultivating-ground-for-magical-shit’?”

“Things can go much worse.”

“I’m lying on the lap of a vampire who had been flirting with me for a while. Can it get worse?”

“I didn’t say I am a vampire,” Marvin chuckled softly.

“You didn’t say you’re not,” Whizzer replied back.

They stared at each other for a moment, a comfortable silence slipping between them. The emptiness of theatre’s backroom, the soft yellow light that fell into his eyes, the fact that he was lying on someone’s lap made Whizzer slightly sleepy. He fought back a yawn as he kept staring, not wanting to lose on this accidental staring battle between the two of them.

But then there was a sound of something exploding outside.

Whizzer sat up at once, looking around, fear suddenly choking in his throat. “Marvin—“ he turned to Marvin to see the other just shaking his head with a scowl, looking absolutely irritated. “Marvin, did you hear that? We got to evacuate immediately.”

“Fucking Biology majors,” Marvin grumbled as he got up. He stretched his hand to Whizzer. Whizzer took it, still feeling slightly dizzy but was capable of standing straight at the very least. “I will _fucking_ kill them _and_ destroy their fucking lab.”

“Isn’t Mendel a Biology major—?”

“He’s the one I will personally _murder_.”

“You sure have quite a temper,” Whizzer remarked dryly. The hymns from the choir club had stopped, he realized. “Want to… I don’t know, get out?”

Marvin let out a deep sigh before saying: “Let’s go from the back door.”

 

*

 

That was how Whizzer Brown found himself lying down at the backseat of Marvin’s car, the other driving it away from the theatre building, out from the campus area. Whizzer took a peek from the windows to see what was truly happening, just to have his jaw slack open from the view of humanoid creatures with fungi heads running around the roads and bumping into the wall. Marvin skillfully skid around them, avoiding the Camaro from bumping into the creatures. Feeling like his head was hurting more, he slid down to the seat and made himself comfortable.

“Can we get Cordelia at least?” he asked to Marvin who only grumbled loudly before making a very reckless U turn. One creature bumped into the side of the car, leaving icky trails of slime in the windows.

“ _I’m going to fucking kill Mendel_.”

“So, we’re getting Cordelia?”

“Yes!” Marvin snapped at him loudly, making Whizzer flinch. Usually he would’ve replied to the sharp tone as soon as he heard it, but he wasn’t dumb enough to provoke the vampire who was driving him away from the fiasco that had happened. “Where is she?”

“Art department… I think.”

Marvin let out a groan that Whizzer took away as a ‘ _that’s not good enough, but fine_ ’.

Meanwhile, Whizzer reached for his phone and started texting his best friend as soon as possible. His fingers stumbled on the screen, filling his texts with so much typos that he cringed seeing it, but seeing as they were going on full speed to reach the art department, he couldn’t really say much about it.

 

_Dee_ 12.03

_DEE FUCKING REPLY_ 12.03

_WHERE ARE YOU RIGHT NOW were picking u up_ 12.04

 

He spammed the chat until he saw the ‘delivered’ sign turned into ‘read’.

 

**Cordelia Abrams**

_Painting in the art building… why do you want to pick me up?_ 12.08

**Whizzer** B

_get ur hands off your paintbrush and SEE WHAT’S HAPPENING OUTSIDE_ 12.08

**Cordelia Abrams**

...

 

He stared at the typing sign until it changed. Meanwhile, Marvin bumped into another creature. Whizzer’s messenger bag slid into the floor and Whizzer had to use his foot to prevent the contents from scattering.

 

**Cordelia Abrams**

??????? _WHAT THE FUCK_ 12.10

**Whizzer B**

_we r close run outside idk where marvin’s taking us tho_ 12.10

**Cordelia Abrams**

_You’re with Marvin???_ 12.10

**Whizzer B**

_JUST RUN OUTSIDE WOMAN WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS LATER_ 12.11

 

“Where are we going after this?” He looked up from his screen to find that they were nearing the art building.

Marvin didn’t take his eyes from the road when he answered, still sounding pissed, “To the bunker in the sports and recreations building.”

“This university has a _bunker_?”

The other did not reply to that question as they skidded into a halt in front of the art department. Cordelia was rushing outside, screaming as she narrowly avoided a creature that was running into her. She was holding a canvas in her left arm and her tote in the other. She seemed confused and panicked by this whole predicament, but approached their car with a smile and a cheerful “Hi, Whizzer! Hi, Marvin!” as she stepped inside, her canvas bumping into Whizzer’s knee.

“That better be dry,” Marvin grumbled from the front seat.

“I wrapped it with wrapping paper! Don’t worry.” Cordelia patted at his shoulder. “Now let’s go, I really don’t like these creatures…”

 

*

 

Marvin parked his car at a secluded area between the tennis and the basketball court. The fenced sports and recreations area seemed to be empty, no mushroom creatures roaming around and running in the streets, at the very least. They got out of Marvin’s Camaro and silently made their way to a small shack behind the basketball court, Marvin walking ahead of them with a permanent scowl on his face.

The shack seemed to be rackety and old, but when Marvin pulled the door open, they were greeted by a steel door with a password panel on it. Marvin pressed the number and the door open with a loud hiss, greeting them with cold, air conditioned air as it swung open—alongside a sound of music from inside said bunker.

“Someone’s here already?” Cordelia turned to Whizzer, who answered with a shrug—he didn’t even know there was a need for _bunker_ in a university.

As Marvin’s curly mop of a hair disappeared from view, they followed behind, Whizzer closing the door behind them as they got in. The door let out a loud click as it locked itself.

After making sure the door didn’t swing open as he pushed it, Whizzer followed Cordelia, heading below the stairs. He counted 30 steps below until they were greeted by an open area. It seemed like it stepped out of a 50s nuclear ad—or an apocalyptic steampunk show—with vintage couch and record player on the other side of the room. What amused him was a giggling, tipsy Mendel and Trina on the couch, who Marvin just started growling at.

“Oh, Marv,” Trina greeted.

“Why are you two here?!” His roommate snapped at both of them.

“We just need some alone time after our tennis workout!” Mendel was the one answering this time. “I was already late to my class so I just opted out, and since Trina offered…?”

“You don’t know what’s happening outside?” Marvin asked, though from Whizzer’s ear it seemed like an accusation filled with hate than a question.

“Uh, no?” Mendel asked back. “What… is going on? Better yet, why are you here with these kids?”

“Marvin, what’s going on?” Trina, apparently only realizing now that Cordelia and Whizzer was also in the room with them. She glanced at them and then Marvin.

“I’m not doing anything with your girlfriend! I swear! We were just… chilling…” Mendel shouted over Trina. Whizzer could practically feel his nervous energy from where he was standing, the poor guy. Marvin was staring daggers at him. Considering that he had been chanting to murder Mendel on their way here, Whizzer was pretty amused (and surprised) by Marvin’s patience.

“I really don’t care,” Marvin rolled his eyes. “What I care about is _your_ department kids’ experiment who has gone wrong, anyway, and now we have fucking mushroom creatures running around.”

“We _what_?” Trina stood at once.

“Oh no,” Mendel retorted.

“ _Mother_ is going to kill us,” Marvin said, more to Trina than to anyone of them.

Mother? Whizzer raised an eyebrow at this mention. He saw the panic on Trina’s face as soon as Marvin spoke the name into existence, and even he could tell that Marvin looked uncomfortable. He wondered what was going on. But telling from the looks of Marvin and Trina’s face, he could guess that it wasn’t good.

“Mendel…” Trina turned to him in shock. “What did you do with that liquid I gave you to keep yesterday?”

“Uh… I put it on lab near the—“ Mendel stopped speaking at once. “Oh my god. I put it next to the liquid we’re supposed to use on the experiment that we’re supposed to do today.”

“You,” Marvin’s voice rose at once hearing that, “You fucking incompetent _rantallion_ —“

Trina moved in front of Mendel at once, protecting him from Marvin’s wrath. “Marv, calm down. I’m sure that the committee have this handled. You and first-degree assault is not the solution to this.”

Marvin stared at her for a moment, then to Mendel. Then, Whizzer flinched as he screamed in frustration and stalked to the next room—it seemed to be a bedroom—and slammed the door behind him.

 

*

 

Mendel poured the tea he made to the cups in front of Whizzer and Cordelia. Cordelia lifted it at once and took a sip, while Whizzer only stared at the bedroom that Marvin had disappeared in, followed by Trina who claimed that she was going to calm him down so that no further murder would occur in the bunker.

“I’m sure everything will be okay, Mendel,” Cordelia said as she patted Mendel’s back. “Trina did say the committee will have this handled! It’s also not _totally_ your fault, as it’s not totally the faults of your fellow students. It’s just a big misunderstanding!”

Mendel was quiet for a moment before he buried his face on his palms. “God, I’m such an idiot. Trina asked me to do a favor for her and I even fucked that up too.”

“Trina didn’t seem too angry,” Whizzer replied, still waiting for the door to open.

“Marvin _is_ raging though,” Cordelia remarked.

“What is this committee exactly?”

“Oh, it’s just a student body that cleans up the mess around the campus. Did I not mention that when we did the campus tour?” Mendel asked, still not lifting his head from his hands.

Whizzer shrugged, which was supposed to mean: ‘ _I don’t know, I didn’t attend the tour_ ’.

Applebaum University got weirder the more time he spent in here, which worried him since it’s only been a moment since he was a student here. Between vampires, the choir club, the said-to-be-not-girlfriend of said vampire… it could be said that his mind was preoccupied.’

And that _Mother_ , of course.

Whizzer was still staring at the door, waiting for it to open. But as it had been the previous night, the door didn’t swing. And he waited. And he waited….


	4. Marvin and Trina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mendel was drunk, Marvin and Trina was in a room together for more than an hour, and Whizzer, Whizzer was jealous.

Apparently, when Mendel was nervous, he drank much more than he was supposed to.

Whizzer watched in amusement as Mendel stumbled to get another drink from the kitchen part of the bunker as the one they were drinking previously was preoccupied in Cordelia’s hand. He was still nursing the wine in his hand while the shitty television played reruns of some 90s show that he didn’t recognize, trying to keep his eyes off the door that seemed like a ghost in the corner of his eyes.

“Whiiiiizzer!” Mendel singsonged as he came back with a bottle of beer that he took from the fridge – that was currently slightly opened, letting out a faint chill to the bunker. Whizzer decided that Mendel was an irresponsible drunk at that time. The curly-haired man made himself fell over the arms of the couch, whining lowly: “Am I really that bad? Is he really that good?”

Whizzer took a sip of his wine and tilted his head. “Who?”

“Marvin!” Mendel pouted. “Am I really that lacking? Trina is obviously not happy with him, but why does she never so much as glance into me?”

Jesus, he got to be the _oblivious_ type, wasn’t he? He shot a glance to Cordelia who only shrugged as she hiccupped. Apparently, it was clear for everyone beside Mendel himself that Trina’s relationship with Marvin was strictly non-romantic (…though _sexual_ was another matter entirely, considering they haven’t gone out of the room for a while) and she seemed like she enjoyed her life more when Mendel was roaming beside her.

He considered telling Mendel that there was no great love story between Trina and Marvin. But he was more of a stranger that had no idea what was truly going between those two pale-skinned people that, have he mentioned, _haven’t gone out the room for one hour straight_?

Instead, he grinned mischievously and told Mendel: “Well, Marvin dresses better than you,” he gestured at the obnoxious workout clothes. “Not by much, though. You guys are fashion _disasters_.”

Mendel looked like he was going to roar in sadness. “WHIIIIZZER!” he yelled, and Whizzer had to lean away from the hands that tried to hug him, the only obstacle being the arms of the couch. “Please help me. I want _her_. I _love_ her. She’s too good for him!”

Whizzer rolled his eyes in response. He pushed Mendel by his forehead with his pointer finger. “Then get your shit together, Weisenbachfeld,” he retorted. “Impress the girl.”

“Take her to dinner!” Cordelia replied as she giggled.

“Buy her flowers,” Whizzer added. “Roses would be absolutely divine.”

“What’s this talk about roses?”

Marvin’s voice rose into view. Whizzer prevented himself not to turn at the voice at once. He took the last drop of the wine to his mouth and replied: “Roses are great,” he muttered to the glass. “I _love_ roses.”

He turned away from Mendel and leaned back to the couch. Trina had changed her top into a white button-up that was wrinkled at the collar. A little yellowing bruise was barely visible on her collarbone, and her previously tied up hair was down. Whizzer wanted to say something. He glanced at Marvin instead. His lips were slightly swollen and his shirt was also wrinkled in the chest part, like it was grasped on.

Whizzer could feel his blood boiling.

Marvin took a seat beside Whizzer as Mendel slid to the floor, drunkenly muttering something under his breath. “How long are we supposed to be here?” Whizzer asked to no one in particular.

“When everything clears out the committee will drop us a call,” Marvin was the one who quickly replied.

“How convenient,” he shot back. He played with the rim of the wine glass, tracing his finger on the edge. “How about the other students? We’re really holed up in here while they’re being chased with those mushroom creatures?”

He felt something press at his arm. Marvin’s skin felt slightly warm against the fabric of his clothes. “They’ll be fine. Saul would have informed us if the creatures were dangerous.”

“Who’s Saul?” Cordelia asked as she leaned on Trina’s shoulder.

“A friend of ours,” Trina answered quickly, her frown clear on her lips.

That was the end of that conversation. Whizzer scooted away from the warmth beside him and concentrated his focus on taking his time consuming the wine. He wasn’t a lightweight, of course, he’d spent his high school years snatching his father’s alcohol stash – or rather more like ‘collection’ that he’d forgotten over the years – but there was a worry here that was related to the fact that he was a clingy slash flirty drunk. And he was surrounded by people that he didn’t actually know, sans Cordelia. (He was fooling himself; he knew exactly _why_ he refused to get drunk in somebody’s presence, especially not after what happened.)

At the end, he managed to manage himself from accepting Mendel’s pushy “Come on, Whiz, have another glass,” by excusing himself to the bathroom. Upon walking in, he kicked closed the door behind him and stared at himself at the mirror. His hair was messy and he looked slightly pale, probably due to the incident later with the choir club.

His hand leaned on the sink as he sighed for a moment, collecting himself before tidying up his hair into the usual style, though with a little difficulty since there was no pomade around.

He realized he felt upset. Not because the hair.

When he walked out again, Mendel’s sprawled on the floor, snoring softly, still nursing an empty bottle of beer while Cordelia was looking at her painting. Trina was at the kitchen, putting aside the bottles that they already emptied. He scanned over the bunker for the last figure, who was missing from under his eyes. Probably back at the bedroom?

Cordelia looked up at him as he approached, flustered as she slightly restricted his eyes from seeing the painting by covering the canvas with it. Unfortunate for her, she was so lithe that she couldn’t have covered it completely even if she tried. Whizzer took a good hard look: it was a painting of a woman with flowers and butterflies on her hair, realistic, but with unusual brush of pastel colors—it reminds him of Van Gogh’s ones that he’d seen her put the postcards up in her walls. It probably was a study.

Then he recognized the hair and he tilted his head and asked: “Is that supposed to be Charlotte DuBois?”

Cordelia’s face reddened at once. “No!” She caught herself shrieking. “I mean, yes, but you can’t tell her. This is supposed to be a surprise.”

Fondly, Whizzer smiled at his best friend. She was so sweet that sometimes Whizzer wished that she was a dude that he could date. “I’m sure it’ll be a happy surprise.”

Cordelia giggled softly, more to herself than to Whizzer. She sat back to the seat and Whizzer finally had a full look of the painting. It was beautiful even though it wasn’t finished yet. Cordelia even nailed the toothy, playful smile that was always on Charlotte’s face whenever they were together.

“This is beautiful,” he complimented honestly.

“I agree,” Trina shouted from the kitchen. “I think Charlotte would be really happy about the painting.”

“Anyone would be happy to be given something like this,” Whizzer shot a smile at Cordelia.

Cordelia had the humility to flush slightly. “Oh, you,” she punched his shoulder playfully.

 

*

 

You can’t tell if it had turned into night since there were no windows in the bunker, but Whizzer checked his phone and it’s already 8 PM when he woke up from a tipsy nap on the couch. Mendel were still on the floor; difference was there was now a mattress under him that wasn’t there when Whizzer had fallen asleep. Cordelia was on the couch across of him, the light from the television illuminating her face.

He was sitting up as he turned away from Cordelia, just to have his phone fell from his hand to his lap as he realized that there was a dark mass on the other end of the couch. He grabbed the pillow he has used to sleep and threw it to the mass.

The mass caught it and scoffed. “Nice try, Brown.”

“Marvin?” He recognized the voice at once. “Jesus, you got to stop watching me while I sleep like that. I don’t know if you, as a vampire, know this, but it’s fucking _creepy_.”

“I wasn’t watching you sleep. I was watching the television. The couch was just occupied, so I just stood there.”

Cordelia stirred on his sleep at the sound of their voices. Whizzer sighed sharply and stood up, dragging Marvin to the kitchen where it was more well-lit.

The light on the kitchen shone on their face. Whizzer knew he looked messy, could feel Marvin’s condescending stare in his skin. It made his skin crawl. “Stop watching me sleep,” he shoved his pointer finger at Marvin’s chest.

Marvin stared at the finger for a moment before flicking the gaze back to Whizzer. “I wasn’t.”

“This is the second time you’ve done it.”

“Second time?” Marvin’s brow rose. “Oh, you meant at that time. That was only because you were losing your shit over the dream.”

“Just stop. One can be scared shitless if you’ve done pulled that shit again.”

Marvin pressed his lips together before saying: “Okay.”

“Good,” he pushed the shorter figure aside only to find resistance; he was too strong to move, to his surprise. “I’m going back to bed—“

His arm was caught by a strong, calloused hand. His fingers are long as it wrapped around Whizzer’s arm, and to his surprise: he didn’t feel as cold as usual. “I don’t understand why you are so angry at me,” he sounded frustrated. “I don’t know what I did. I was nothing but nice to you.”

Whizzer wished he had a stake. Or garlic. Or a stake slathered in garlic oil.

Or maybe anything that could silent the hurt in his chest.

“You are _infuriating_ , I already fucking said I can’t stand you!” He decided with words once he realized that none of those items are available. “Just get off me, okay?”

Marvin pulled his hand away. There was a faint hurt in his eyes that betrayed his expressionless features. He looked like Whizzer just stepped all over him. For a moment, Whizzer felt bad to have said those words. But he remembered Trina, the bruise and Marvin’s words, and he was filled with cold poison again. At the end, he walked away and came back to the couch, leaving Marvin alone, closing his eyes tightly as he heard the clink of alcohol bottle and glass on the counter.

 

*

 

The next morning, he was woken up by a shake on the shoulder. He opened his eyes to find Mendel looking at him. “It’s clear outside,” he told him, which Whizzer answered with a grumble. “Marvin and Trina left already. They told us to come back to the dorms.”

Thank God, Whizzer thought to himself. After what happened last night it was doubtful that he wanted to face Marvin so early in this morning.

There was nothing that indicated the mushroom people on the streets as they walked back. Whizzer spent it with one earhole stuffed with his earphone, and he could hear the sound of birds chirping from far away as he walked. Cordelia was chatting lowly with Mendel about Applebaum when Whizzer heard the faint sound of a sports car far away. He searched for Marvin’s Camaro but found none.

He went back to his room as soon as they stepped into the dorm area. He closed the door gently behind him. Marvin’s side of the room was messy like always, though apparently, Whizzer had forgotten to fold his fluffy blanket that it seemed like his bed was just as messy. He had no class that morning – and even though he had, Mendel said most of them was cancelled already – so he threw himself against his bed and stayed still for a while with half of his face pressed on his very comfortable pillow.

He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until he woke up into a still silence in the room. He pushed himself up the bed and stared at the way sunset fell on Marvin’s side of the bed from the window. Something sparkled in the middle of used plaid shirts and socks. Whizzer bit his lower lip, contemplating between curiosity and anxiety.

“Oh, fuck it.”

He pushed himself off the bed and picked up the thing he had seen. It was an amulet of some sort, moon-shaped silver with a jagged purple stone in the middle of the moon. He’d never seen Marvin with it before – and it seemed entirely feminine, something that he’d never thought of associating with the man. The stone felt cold in his finger.

It was at this moment that he’d heard the door turn. Panicked, he frantically went back to his bed, shoving the amulet under his duvet, and pretended like he was minding his own business.

Marvin walked in with a frown and a fresh bruise in his face. Whizzer raised an eyebrow at the sight. He opened his mouth to say something, but Marvin avoided his gaze, pushed the mess on his bed to the floor and laid on the bed with his back on Whizzer.

Whizzer contemplated saying something.

A few minutes passed, heavy of silence.

“Do you have something to say? I can feel your gaze on me.” Marvin’s voice startled him from his thoughts.

“What happened…?”

“None of your goddamn business,” the voice was back to his unfriendly, sharp tone that Marvin hadn’t used with him for a while.

Whizzer was surprised to find himself pushing on. “Did someone hit you?”

 “I said,” Marvin lifted his head and glared at him, “it’s none of your goddamn business, Brown.”

“I’m sorry for trying to be friendly,” Whizzer shot back sarcastically, laying back down on his bed.

“No need to. Didn’t you find me infuriating?”

“That’s—“ he sighed. “Never mind. I’ll shut up. I suggest you do too.”

Another silence passed over them. Whizzer stared at the ceiling, remembering that he still had this amulet. He was smart enough to know that Marvin will flip his shit if he found out Whizzer had been snooping, though, so Whizzer decided that he would just return the amulet when his roommate isn’t around. He made a mental note to do so.

“Who’s Saul?” He found himself asking after the silence became unbearable.

“Saul’s a jerk.”

“Yeah, but who is he?”

“Goddamn, Whizzer Brown,” Marvin grumbled from his bed, “are you always too stupid to pay attention? Saul Applebaum’s the Dean of Students. God, how do you even survive when you don’t know shit?”

The Dean of Students? Whizzer remembered the blond, curly-haired man with pale skin that talked at the assembly. _He_ was Saul Applebaum, which meant that Marvin and Trina was on the first name basis with the fucking _Dean_.

Quietly, Whizzer reached over his phone and sent a text to Mendel whose numbers he had acquired the previous night.

 

**Whizzer B**

_mendel r u free at dinner_ 17.25

 

The reply was a late, 5-minute later reply that came after a five minute of the typing sign screaming at his face.

 

**Stupid Scientist**

_Are you asking me out?_ 17.30

**Whizzer B**

_pft u wish. no I’ve got some questions to ask about the school_ 17.31

**Stupid Scientist**

_Oh. Sure. Where?_ 17.31

**Whizzer B**

_I’ll send u the location_ 17.31

**Stupid Scientist**

_Can’t we just walk together there? We live in the same floor_. 17.32

**Whizzer B**

_um no. c ya there_ 17.32

_i wont be caught dead on a date with u_ 17.32

_[Whizzer B. sent a location.]_ 17.34

 

And with that, he smiled to himself and went to the bathroom to shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy this unfortunately short chapter!!! sorry for the late update, lmao.  
> i also have a pinterest board for this fic here if you're into that sort of thing https://id.pinterest.com/henrywinters/spiteful-in-a-million-ways/  
> thank you for reading, like always! <3


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